But the moment I cross the threshold, I know I’m not alone.
The bondshifts.
She followed me.
Of course she did.
I don’t turn around immediately, even though I can feel her presence settling just inside the doorway like warmth against my back. I close my eyes, dragging my composure back into place before facing whatever this conversation is going to cost me.
“You bolted pretty fast back there.” Her voice is careful, testing.
I exhale through my nose. “Needed space to think.”
Silence stretches between us. Then, quieter: “Want me to leave?”
Yes.
No.
Gods, I don’t know.
“Do whatever you want, Kaia.” The words come out rougher than I intend.
I hear her move closer, boots soft against stone. “You’ve been pulling away from me.”
I force something that might pass for a laugh. “Not pulling away. Just…” I drag a hand down my face. “Trying to figure things out.”
“What things?”
I finally turn to meet her gaze, and the openness there nearly undoes me. She’s looking at me like I’m still worth something, like I’m still the man she trusted before everything changed.
Like she can’t see the monster I’m becoming.
I lean against the nearest bookshelf, arms crossed defensively. “I don’t know if I can control it anymore.”
Understanding flickers in her violet eyes. “The berserker.”
One sharp nod. “What happened when we stepped into Absentia, that wasn’tme, Kaia. It was something else wearing my face. And I don’t know if I can stop it from happening again.”
She studies me with that unnerving focus of hers, shadows drifting around her ankles like curious cats. Something unreadable passes through her expression before she steps closer, eliminating the careful distance I’ve been maintaining.
I should back away.
I don’t.
Instead, I go perfectly still as she reaches up, pressing her palm flat against my chest, right over my hammering heart. The touch is gentle but deliberate, warmth seeping through fabric to settle in my bones.
“You’re still you,” she says simply.
I swallow hard. “You can’t know that.”
Her fingers curl into my shirt, grip firm. “I do.”
The certainty in her voice makes my breath catch. She means it—I can feel it through the bond, solid and unwavering. But she doesn’t understand what I saw in that moment when the berserker took over. What I felt when control slipped away like water through my fingers.
“I could have hurt you.” The admission scrapes my throat raw. “Could have killed you.”
She doesn’t even blink. “But you didn’t.”
